


To Be a Milkovich

by kikabennet



Series: The Wonderful World of Teenagers [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Secrets, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Preteens, Teen Angst, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:48:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5370776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikabennet/pseuds/kikabennet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sister/sequel series to "Raising Yevgeny Milkovich". The Milkovich children, Yevgeny, Gavrel, and Isidora are now seventeen, thirteen, and eleven. Mickey, Ian, and Svetlana deal with the wonderful world of teenagers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be a Milkovich

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel/sister series to "Raising Yevgeny Milkovich". I haven't abandoned that story, I promise! Somebody has been asking me for stories of the kids in their teenage years so I wanted to write them while they're fresh in my head.

Mickey stormed into the house after work, immediately stepping on various pieces of paper and art supplies.

“Christ,” he muttered and then yelled, “Izzy! Pick your shit up!”

Isidora came out of the kitchen, clad only in one of her brothers' long-sleeved shirts and small cotton and skullcap over her thick, dark wavy hair. Her bare legs and sweater were coated with splotches of paint.

“I'm working, Dad,” she argued. “I have to have this finished by tonight so it'll be dry in the morning. I wanna go to VASE.”

VASE was the big art competition all local schools competed in. Mickey shook his head and chucked his keys onto the kitchen table. Izzy looked up from her painting.

“Gavvie?” She guessed.

“Yes, fucking Gavvie,” her father replied. “Kid works my nerves.”

Izzy shrugged one shoulder. This was nothing new to her. Her thirteen-year old brother didn't run into trouble, he went looking for it. Izzy found it kind of funny. Gavvie was Ian's biological son, and looked like he could be Ian's clone, but he acted just like Mickey. He was short-tempered, arrogant, and afraid of showing any kind vulnerability. Yevgeny, nearly seventeen now, was level-headed and all around a good kid. Izzy also knew, and it didn't bother as much, that if Ian and Mickey were forced to say who their favorite kid was, Yevgeny would be Ian's choice. Their fathers loved the kids all the same, but they were fond of them on different levels and in different ways.

“School called me, left a fucking voice mail bitching about Gavvie getting into it with some little fucker in the hallway,” Mickey said.

Izzy scoffed softly. “Yeah, it was over a girl, Stephanie Seago.”

“Who?” Mickey sat down on the sofa, collapsed was more like it.

“Gavvie's-” she put her finger in air-quotation marks. “Best friend.”

Ian came in shortly after and said, “School call you too?”

He looked around. “Where's he at?”

“Not home yet,” Mickey said. “And he's smart not to be. I'm ready to kill his ass. Tired of this shit, Man.”

Ian sighed and looked at the floor, all of the artwork everywhere.

“Izzy, we gave you the garage to be your studio or whatever, why's this all in here?” He wanted to know.

“It's freezing in the garage,” Izzy said. “And lonely.”

When the front door opened again, they expected it to be Gavrel, but it was Yevgeny. He looked a lot like Mickey, but also a lot like Svetlana-a perfect smear.

“Hey,” he greeted, polietly stepping over Izzy's things, moving to the kitchen to grab an apple. “I have work until ten tonight so I have to miss dinner.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ian said. “Hey, Yevvie? See your brother?”

“Um, no,” Yevgeny said, popping back into the living room, crunching his apple. “I heard about it, though.”

Izzy finally began cleaning up all of her things and held up a large painting of balloons floating in the sky, anvils tied to their strings. She smiled proudly.

“When it comes home from VASE,” Ian said, kissing her cheekbone. “With a ribbon, We're gonna hang it up with the rest of them.”

“It looks nice, Iz,” Mickey said, wanting to point out that balloons couldn't carry anvils, but he knew artists were always doing weird shit like that. In the fifth grade, Izzy had gotten in trouble for drawing vaginas all over her notebooks, claiming it was 'artistic expression'.

“Thanks!” She bubbled. “I'm gonna take a picture to send to Mom.”

She carried her things up to her room, and Yevgeny sighed, looking between his fathers.

“Want me to talk to Gavvie?” He asked.

Before his fathers could answer, the front door opened and Gavrel walked in, head down, tail between his legs.

“Don't fucking even,” Mickey said, when he got to the stairs.

Gavrel turned around, his bottom lip split and a cut near one of his eyes. There was a bruise on his cheek.

“Gavvie, what are we gonna do with you?” Ian asked, removing the thirteen-year-old's beanie and pushing his back his bangs to reveal another scrape near his hairline.

“Just let me fucking get expelled!” Gavrel barked. “It's Yev who's gonna go to college because he has brains and Izzy who'll go because of her weird artsy shit.”

“Don't sit there and act like we're gonna pity you,” his older brother told him, like Gavrel was being ridiculous, like he was. “You're in GATE.”

GATE was gifted and talented education. Mickey and Ian were proud because all of their kids were in GATE. While Yevgeny was good with math, Gavrel was good with English, and Izzy was good at all of it.

“Look, I didn't go out and pick a fight,” Gavrel said. “Marcus Broussard started talking shit about Steph and I'm not the kind of guy who's gonna sit there and let her take it.”

“So tell him to meet you behind the gym after school like you're not retarded,” Yevgeny told him. “Jesus, Gavvie.”

Gavrel shot him a look and Mickey got between them.

“Gavrel, sit your ass down,” he told his son, and Gavrel slumped down on the sofa.

“What did this ass wipe say about your girl?” He wanted to know.

Gavrel's cheeks turned red and he folded his lips in. Mickey stared at him, waiting, eyebrows raised high. Ian stared too. Yevgeny walked off. He had to get ready for work and didn't have time for his brother's shenanigans.

“What did he say?” Ian prodded, a little more gently.

Gavrel straightened his posture, leaning forward.

“She stutters,” He said, staring at his parents, daring them to say something about it too. His look was all defense.

“She stutters?” Mickey asked.

“She's pretty,” Izzy said, coming back downstairs, now dressed in some leggings and a t-shirt. She sat on the arm of the sofa. “And she's in GATE too and she plays basketball.”

“So you beat the shit outta some kid because he made a smart-ass comment about how she talks?” Mickey asked, but it didn't come out like a question.

Gavrel steamed, looking away again. Mickey sighed and scrubbed a hand down his mouth before sitting down next to his son.

“Does it get to her?” He wanted to know.

“What does it fucking matter?” Gavrel snapped. “It gets to me, okay? That asshole's been at me since the second grade, and then this really great girl moves here from Canada and I found him and his gang of fucktards in the hallway pretending to stutter around her!”

“Gavvie,” Ian said sternly. “Calm down. Okay? We get it.”

“No, you don't get it.” Gavrel stood up.

“Don't fucking talk to him like that,” Mickey ordered. “Sit down.”

Gavrel sat again.

“Get your phone out,” he ordered. “Call her. Invite her to dinner.”

  
“What?” Gavrel's brows furrowed.

“See if you're tellin' the truth,” Mickey said, smiling a little at Ian, who was trying to hide his own smile.

“Ooh!” Izzy clapped her hands excitedly. “I'll make brownies for dessert.”

Gavrel let out a little breathy laugh.

“You're not serious, are you?” He asked Mickey.

“Yeah, I'm fuckin' serious,” Mickey said. “Either she comes over and eats with us or you're not gonna like it if she doesn't.”

Yevgeny came back downstairs in his work uniform-he worked as a server at a local sports bar after school. He laughed a little as he sat on the sofa to tie his shoes.

“I wish I didn't have to work,” he chuckled, and Gavvie flipped him off.

Izzy followed Ian into the kitchen, already harassing him into helping her make homemade brownies. Mickey followed Yevgeny outside to the car.

“Be careful,” Mickey said, handing him the keys.

“Are you sure you just don't want me to take the train?” Yevgeny asked. Only lately had his parents allowed him to borrow the car for work.

“Kid, you're good.” Mickey nodded at him.

  
Yevgeny looked at him, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Go easy on him, Pop,” he said, opening the car door and climbing in. “We were all thirteen-year-old buttwipes once.”

Mickey waved him away, lighting a cigarette. After he smoked, he went back inside and Gavrel muttered, “She'll be here around seven.”

“Good,” Mickey said. “Clean yourself up.”

 

\----------------

Ian made chicken and black beans and rice with peppers and spices, filling the house with a delicious smell. Izzy helped him cook, as she always did. Gavrel and Yevgeny hated cooking, but Izzy loved it. Ever since she was little, she would sit on the counter top beside Ian as he whizzed around the kitchen preparing meals, eating vegetables and fruits off the cutting board as quickly as he would chop them.

Gavrel showered and changed shirts and combed his hair and Mickey found him in the bathroom spraying body spray down the front of his jeans.

“Does she know?” He asked, stopping in the doorway. “ 'bout us?”

“Yeah,” His son replied.

Stephanie's mother dropped her off just as Ian was turning off the burners on the stove. Mrs. Seago was a plump woman that looked younger than her silver hair which was fastened in a messy pile on top of her head. She shook hands with both Ian and Mickey.

“It's good to meet you,” she said. “Stephanie gets along so well with Gavrel.”

“We've heard good things about her too,” Ian said, always the gentleman around older ladies.

Mrs. Seago smacked her lips and said, “You two hardly look old enough to have teenagers! What's your secret?”

“We were teenagers when we had 'em,” Mickey said.

Stephanie was petite with blonde hair in some kind of fancy braid with a few dotted freckles and big, gray eyes. She bid her mother farewell and Gavrel led her into the kitchen. Izzy grinned at her and Stephanie said shyly, “Hey, Izzy.”

“Thanks for having me for dinner,” Stephanie said as she sat down in the chair next to Gavrel. “It smells great.”

“Ian's a great cook,” Gavrel told her, smiling shyly.

As they sat down to eat, Stephanie and Gavrel talked about school and laughed at jokes nobody else at the table would get. Mickey and Ian could see how Gavrel was sweet on her, and they kept quiet for the most part, just making small talk.

“But the funniest thing about Ms. Doyle's class-” Stephanie said as she and Gavrel made jokes about their teachers, but suddenly stopped.

Izzy, Ian, and Mickey waited. Stephanie licked her lips and said, “....the...the...fuuhhh...funniest thing is...”

Her cheeks turned bright red and she laughed nervously and muttered, “Sorry. S...stuttering storm.”

“It's fine,” Gavrel said. “You're cool.”

“Ms. Doyle's always coming to class on pills,” she finally managed, and looked miserable for a split second, poking at her food.

“That's funny,” Ian said.

“It really is,” Izzy agreed. “I'm known a couple of pill heads and they're always just kind of stumbling around.”

Stephanie perked up again and they continued to converse, her stuttering every now and then, but nobody called attention to it. Izzy served homemade brownies for dessert, which were bigger and thicker than the ready-mix kind and messier because they had chocolate chips in them.

“Thanks, eh,” Stephanie said, and then bubbled with laughter, slapping Gavrel on the arm.

“I told you you say it without thinking!” Gavrel laughed too. To his family he explained, “She said Canadian people don't say 'eh' all the time, then she goes and blurts it out randomly.”

“You swear in Russian,” she countered.

 

\--------------

“Hello, Yevgeny,” Ms. Tuley said as Yevgeny approached her table.

“Hey,” he said, smiling. “The usual?”

“A beer and some blue cheese wings,” she agreed.

Ms. Jennifer Tuley was his Calculus teacher. Yevgeny took her order, and after what seemed like hours until his shift was over-even though it wasn't even two hours, Yevgeny met her in the parking lot, looking around, taking his apron off and folding it over his arm.

“Mine or yours?” She said, holding up her keys.

“Yours,” he said, following her to her SUV.

Once they were inside, they began fumbling with their lower clothing. Jennifer was in her early thirties, but was easily one of those women that would look good into their fifties. The sex was good, even if they were cramped in the backseat.

“What are we gonna do?” Yevgeny asked, sitting next to her after all was said and done, both of them smoking a cigarette. “I mean, six months.”

“Do you really want to spoil the moment?” She asked, grinning at him with her dazzling teeth. She touched some of his sweaty hair. “You need a hair cut again.”

Yevgeny crawled partially into her lap, kissing her neck. She craned her head for better access.

“We've been doing this for six months," he murmured into her skin. “When can we just get over hiding it?”

“When you're not jail-bait anymore,” Jennifer told him. She touched the side of his face. “Now get down on the floorboard.”

She spread her legs as he wriggled to get between them.

 

\---------------

After Stephanie's mother picked her up, Gavrel helped Ian to clean the kitchen. As they worked side by side, half listening to Mickey and Izzy say “oohhh!” every time a car crash happened on some TV show they were watching in the living room, Ian looked at his son with a half smile.

“What?” Gavrel asked.

“She's cute,” Ian said.

Gavrel blushed, closing the dishwasher with his foot.

“She'd never go out with me,” He said.

“Why not?” Ian wanted to know, his tone casual.

Gavrel shrugged. “She hasn't asked me or anything?”

“Maybe you should ask her,” Ian said. “Isn't that typically how it goes?”

Gavrel washed his hands at the sink.

“I'm sorry the school called you,” he said, folding his lips in.

Ian slapped on the back and the towel-snapped his rear-end with the dish towel he was holding. Gavrel smiled a little.

“You're off the hook,” Ian told him. “Just listen to your brother next time. Take it behind the gym. Don't get caught.”

“Hey, everybody,” Yevgeny said, coming in through the front door. “Smells good in here, Dad. Is it all put up?”

“You have a plate in the microwave,” Ian told him as Yevgeny moved to the kitchen, chucking the keys onto the kitchen counter top.

“Oh!” Izzy jumped up from her spot of leaning against Mickey. “My VASE piece! Let me show you, Yevvie!”

“Oh, yeah, I wanna see it,” Yevgeny said, following her up the stairs.

When he returned, Izzy chattering a mile a minute about types of paint and colors and whatever else made sense to her as an artist, but no one else, Ian set his warmed up plate on the table.

“Thanks, Dad,” Yevgeny said. As he ate, he turned to Gavrel and asked, “So?”

“So what?” Gavrel asked casually.

“Did Stephanie show?” Yevgeny wanted to know.

“She's cute,” Ian said. “And very Canadian.”

“How come you never bring girls home?” Izzy wanted to know.

“Izzy,” Ian warned, but his tone was light.

“Um...I don't date a lot of girls,” Yevgeny said, kind of telling the truth.

Ian and Mickey exchanged looks. Ian licked his lips and asked timidly, biting his bottom lip over and over, “Um, Yev, are you-”

“No, Dad.” Yevgeny laughed good-naturedly. “I'm not. I'm just not into high school girls, you know?”

He put his plate away in the dishwasher and went snooping around the rest of the kitchen for dessert. He found Izzy's brownies on the stove on a plate covered with foil. He ate one standing up, listening to Izzy talk some more about the upcoming art competition.

\------

As Ian and Mickey got out of the shower-showering together not just to fool around, but to actually save hot water because the kids wasted it, Ian began to towel-dry Mickey's hair and his own, switching off. 

"They're growing up," he said with a huff. "Kind of sad, right?"

"Fuck no," Mickey said. "The sooner they get their asses out of the house, the better."

Ian shoved him playfully before starting to dry his body off. Mickey waited patiently for the towel.

"Hey, do you think Yev could be gay?" He asked.

"I dunno," Ian said. "He's really secretive about dating and stuff."

 

 

 

 


End file.
